


Three Times the Great Chesapeake Ripper was a Big Ass Baby, and His Mongoose Totally Played Into It

by WrathoftheStag (Mwuahna)



Series: Their Life in France [7]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Hanners is a big ass baby, Idiots in Love, Life in France, M/M, Murder Husbands, Murder Husbands in love, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Sandro and Martin, Vain Hannibal, Will coddles him too much, Will is a pushover, sweet will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 16:58:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8169224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: Just what the title says.  Murder Husbands domestic fluff.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chronicopheliac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicopheliac/gifts).



**I.**

“But I have no desire to drink that. It’s horrid,” Hannibal said shooing Will away.

“Lord have mercy! Count Hannibal Lecter-Graham, VIII, M.D. –- take the damn NyQuil. I promise you, love, it will help you sleep.”

Hannibal sniffled, pulled the blanket up to his chin and vigorously shook his head.

“Come on, it’s not that bad. It tastes like absinthe. Let’s go, sit up.” 

“I despise absinthe. I’ll take it, if you do as well.” Hannibal hoped this move would get him out of having to ingest the anise-scented green goop.

“Look, I’m not the one with a 101 fever who hasn’t been able to sleep all day. I may not be a doctor, but I can see you’re exhausted. This will knock you out -- I promise you. You’ll sleep.”

“I’ll take it, if you do as well,” Hannibal repeated, standing his ground.

“I’d like to knock you out,” Will mumbled under his breath. He then looked at his husband, who was flushed with sweat, pajamas clinging to his fantastically hairy chest, and then Will’s resolved crumbled.

“Fine. I’ll take it and then you, Doctor Lecter, will shut up and take it as well.”

“Very well, Mongoose.”

“Oh, don’t ‘Mongoose’ me, you Lithuanian brat.”

Hannibal smiled, nose snotty, as Will grimaced and downed a shot of NyQuil.

Soon the two were fast asleep.

 

**II.**

 

Will walked into the kitchen and found Hannibal there, positively fuming. He hadn’t seen Hannibal this worked up since...well, he couldn’t remember since when.

“Hannibal? What’s wrong?”

“Oh. Hello, Mongoose,” Hannibal looked up from his tablet and tilted his head up with puckered lips inviting Will in, for no matter what was going on in the world around them, Hannibal and Will swore their relationship would always come before anything else.

“Mmm,” Will sighed. He then pulled back, brushing Hannibal’s hair away from his face and asked again, “What’s wrong?”

“Well, do you recall that new bakery in town, the one with a grand opening competition inviting people to submit their recipes?”

Will rolled his eyes, “Yes...I remember telling you _not_ to send them anything. We don’t need to be drawing attention to ourselves, love.”

Hannibal waved his hand, dismissing Will’s words. “I don’t recall that. Regardless, I submitted my Madeira cake recipe, and…”

Will sat down next to Hannibal knowing this would be good, “And?”

“And they posted the recipes that won, and mine wasn’t selected,” Hannibal said throwing his hands up in the air.

“Madness!” Will said with a smile.

Hannibal stared at Will, “Mock me, Will. Yes, please, by all means, but I will have you know my Madeira cake is perfection.”

“Perfection?” Will said, “Well then, shame on them.”

“Precisely! I emailed them and do you know what they replied?”

“I’m about to find out,” Will said as he leaned in closer to Hannibal.

“They said, ‘Thank you for your submission. While your recipe was delicious, we felt a Madeira cake is not the direction we would like the bakery to take. Happy baking!’”

“You memorized that, didn’t you?” Will asked smirking.

“‘The direction we would like the bakery to take?’ And what direction would that be? The road to good taste? So I emailed once more.”

“You did not.”

“I most certainly did.”

“Hannibal!” Will laughed, “What did they say?”

Hannibal folded his arms and replied, “Well, I asked them what specifically did they not like about the ‘direction’ I was headed and they said...my cake was too dry. Perhaps I should add glycerin next time. Glycerin!”

“Do you want me to go kill them?” Will asked jokingly.

“Not quite just yet.” Hannibal replied completely serious.

“Love! I was just kidding for fuck’s sake.”

“Well then why offer?”

Will shook his head. “You loon. You are lucky you’re so damn cute.”

Hannibal pouted, “Glycerin...indeed.”

“Hannibal, you know you’re the best pastry chef around. Hands down.”

“You think so?”

Will got up, stood behind Hannibal and wrapped his arms around him, “Absolutely! If you were to open a bakery near their's, they would be out of business within a month.”

“It’d be a pâtisserie,” he said with petulance. “Not a bakery.”

“Of course, yes. Hannibal’s Pâtisserie -- it would be all the rage,” Will whispered into Hannibal’s ear.

Hannibal shrugged.

“Yes, yes it would be. The best pâtisserie in town -- nay, in the region.”

“We couldn’t call it Hannibal’s Pâtisserie...Jack would find us.”

“You can call it whatever you want, my brilliant murderous baker.”

“Maybe Guillaume’s?”

“Absolutely,” Will purred as he began to lick to Hannibal’s ear.

Hannibal chuckled.

 

**III.**

 

Hannibal Lecter was well aware he was a vain man. This was not a big revelation. One does not dress in bespoke three-piece plaid suits unless their middle name is vanity. Of course, Hannibal had every reason to be vain. He was beautiful after all and so, he was used to having his looks garner certain privileges. 

When Hannibal and Will drove into town to try a new restaurant Hannibal had read about, they were both dismayed to find the wait was over an hour. 

“I knew we should have called ahead,” Will said, hangriness beginning to creep in. Hannibal saw the young hostess flirting with one of the waiters. 

“I will go and speak with her,” Hannibal said as he straightened his tie. Hannibal knew he could work his charm and get them seated sooner.

“She said it was an hour,” Will replied shaking his head.

“Nonsense.”

Will observed as Hannibal glided over to her. She smiled, and looked at the list then back at Hannibal and said something. Hannibal responded, and then paused...the girl continued looking at him, then said something else. Hannibal’s shoulders dropped, he nodded and returned to Will.

“So, how did that go?”

“She said it would be an hour or so,” Hannibal replied looking sullen.

“I told you. Come on, let’s have a drink at the bar.”

Hannibal plopped himself onto a bar stool rather inelegantly. Will smiled and handed Hannibal a glass of wine, “Here. Drink this, love.”

“But I did the head tilt _and_ the thing with the eyes,” Hannibal said exasperated.

“Did you softly part your lips?” Will asked with a grin, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“Yes!” Hannibal said completely perplexed.

“Then I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Will? Am I no longer attractive?”

“Just so you know, I’ll still love you when you’re no longer young and beautiful -- or, you know...beautiful,” Will said laughing.

“William!”

“Darling love of my life, you are without a doubt the most breathtaking being I have ever seen.”

Hannibal continued to pout.

“Even that first moment when you were talking shit about bone arenas, you were so gorgeous I was trying to think of something other than my _bone arena_.”

Hannibal’s features softened as Will continued, “Every day you grow more and more lovely. You’re so incredibly dashing. Those cheekbones, so sharp they could kill a man.” Will leaned in and whispered, “They haven’t yet, have they?”

Hannibal smiled, and stroked Will’s arm. 

“And your eyes -- with those cute gossamer brows -- I could lose myself in their depths for hours, and have many times. Those lips! Shit, where do I even begin with those lips? That mouth. Christ! Sinful, completely and utterly sinful.”

Hannibal smiled broadly as he took a large sip of his wine. 

“You’re like this mythical creature, ethereal and amazing. Before I had even kissed you, I could tell you tasted like the sky, because you looked like rain.”

“Will,” Hannibal breathlessly said, “that’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, okay that’s actually a song lyric -- but it’s true. You taste like the sky, 'cause you look like rain.”

Hannibal caressed Will’s cheek, “Thank you for humoring me, _mylimasis_.”

“I'm not. So, do you still want to wait or should we leave?” 

“But their lamprey à la bordelaise is highly recommended,” Hannibal said.

“Alright, Foodie McFloof -- I’m not letting you eat lamprey. You want to talk about unattractive? Now there’s an ugly, ugly beast. Come on, finish your drink. We’re going home to have snacky dinner and then you can then make a meal out of me. Sound good?” Will asked waggling his eyebrows.

Hannibal paused to consider. He then threw back his wine in one large gulp, kissed Will loudly on the lips, and said, “Shall we?”

The two walked out the door, talking about Pont-l'Évêque cheese, a loaf of homemade bread, raspberries, and a good rim job.

**Author's Note:**

> For my sweet [Chronicopheliac](http://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicopheliac/pseuds/chronicopheliac). <3
> 
> The lyrics are from the song [You Look Like Rain](https://youtu.be/9-6bTGZ3DEw) by Morphine.
> 
> Pont-l'Évêque cheese smells like a dirty diaper, but I love it.
> 
> Come visit me and say hi [on Tumblr](http://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com/).


End file.
